Haunting Dreams
by DrowsyPoet
Summary: Logan bails Marie out of a fight behind a bar and they start traveling together. They both grow comfortable with each other, and develop a normal relationship..despite the fact their Mutants and people are trying to kill them.
1. Chapter 1

Every night I have the same dream. A scenario that's a little too real for my taste plays in my head every time I close my eyes. I kill someone, someone kills me, or I'm back in that god forsaken lab. I'm trapped in a world of memories that I've tried to forget…but I can't. I do what I can to numb the emotions flooding my mind? Drink, fight, and engage in other…physical activities. Both my life and my dreams remain the same though…repetitive, awful, and scary as hell.

I downed my 9th shot of whiskey and motioned to the bartender for another. "You sure about that, man?" The bartender asked giving me a suspicious look "You're drinking this like its water."

"Just pour me another" I grumbled at him. Alcohol doesn't stay in my blood stream very well…I suppose it has something or another to do with my healing mutation. You shoot me in the head; I get back up and claw your eyes out. Seems fair to me. The bartender looked at me weird again, but poured my drink and left me in pleasant solitude.

I can hear _everything._ Even the slightest change in heart rate…it all echoes in my ears like I'm some…animal. I suppose I am…I hear everything, smell everything, see everything…and have a weird need to protect everyone I don't completely despise. 'It's a gift' they say 'wear it well' they say…well they have no idea. I could hear a conversation going in the alley behind the bar…yeah, my momma told me not to eavesdrop, but I have to find a way to entertain myself don't I?

"Remy…" a girl…no, a _woman's_ voice said in an exasperated tone "We've been over this…you really have to stop…I don't want to have to leave again."

"Don't tell me what to do." A man grunted back at her "I'll play a game of cards if I wanna…I'm not hurting anyone." She laughed a humorless laugh, and I could tell he scoffed at her

"Have you seen your face in the mirror lately?" she asked him.

"Woman," He said slowly "don't talk to me like I'm stupid."

"I'm not!" she yelled at him "I'm just worried about you." I heard a smack and a gasp…the idiot must've hit her. What a creep. I flipped some cash on the bar, nodded my thanks to the bartender, and walked out the front door before rounding to the back alley.

A tall guy with a lean muscular look about him had a short woman pinned up again the alley wall. He was either going to hit her…or worse, but I wasn't about to let that happen. I walked up behind him, and the woman noticed me long before he did.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he shouted at her, jerking her face roughly towards his own, which was bruised and cut; most likely a result of him cheating in a game of cards. He was beaten, he was angry, and he was drunk…really drunk.

"Let go of her." I said crossing my arms over my chest. He turned his head slightly to look at me, and a startled look crossed his face when he saw me, then left just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Back off" he muttered, loosening his grip on her slightly "she's my problem not yours." I smirked slightly as she rolled her eyes in frustration at his words.

"Remy, this is stupid," she said "just let go of me, and we can head home." '_Home? HOME?_ _She **lives** with this creep of a man?_' my brain shouted blasphemy at him for having a girl he obviously didn't know what to do with.

I grabbed "Remy" by the back of his neck and tore him off of her, pinning him up against the wall, his shirt in my fists. I slowly raised my hands higher until her was a few inches off the ground.

"Don't bother her" I told him sternly, thinking about how I sounded just like the professor at this moment. He gasped frantically as I moved one of my hands from his shirt to his throat, and applied a small bit of pressure.

"Okay, fine! Whatever!" He gasped frantically clawing at my hand "Just put me down!" I released him suddenly and he slumped against the wall. I turned to face the woman.

"You need a ride, Sugar?" I asked gruffly. She cast a disgusted look at him and nodded at me. I motion for her to come with me and I walked over to my bike. "Here" I said tossing her my helmet. She took it hesitantly

"What about you?" she asked. I didn't bother to tell her about the healing or about the fact I never really wore it anyway.

"I'll be fine" I said brushing off her concern…though I sorta kinda liked it. I didn't bother asking her where she wanted to go, or where her home was, I just drove a few miles out of the pitiful excuse for a town we were in. Soon we were seated at a booth in a small diner looking at each other in a companionable silence while sipping our drinks.

"I could've handled myself just fine back there." She told me plainly. She didn't seem upset at my help, she didn't seem to be trying to convince herself she was an independent woman, and she _definitely_ didn't seem to be trying to stick up her nose at me. I smirked at her

"Yeah, you looked just fine from up against the wall." She gave a small, amused smile

"You have no idea what I can do." She said politely, "But thank you for trying to help."

"Trying?" I asked raising an eyebrow at her "If I remember correctly I did a hell of a lot more than _try_ to help you, Sugar." She smiled again, bigger this time.

"Well let me buy you a meal for your troubles," she said gesturing to the diner we were in "Since we're here and all." I nodded at her appreciatively. I liked her…she had guts, she seemed to know how to talk to people, and she was pretty. Damn, she was pretty.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: A Guy Can Hope.**

Something about sitting down and sharing a meal with her made me feel almost…normal. It's been a long time since I actually felt at ease in a public place, much less with another person, and I shocked the hell out of myself by maintaining a civilized conversation with the woman over food. I suppose I should stop calling her "_the woman," _she says her name is Rogue.

"What kind of a name is 'Rogue'?" I asked gruffly. She just smiled at me

"What kind of a name is Wolverine?" _touché_

"Logan." I told her taking a sip of my beer

"Marie" she offered. _Marie_. It suited her…sophisticated, ladylike, and sultry.

"So where are you headed Sugar?" I asked her, trying not to pry.

"I'm not sure yet." She admitted with the shrug of her shoulders "Remy and I have been together forever…I've always just gone where he goes." Bastard. He doesn't deserve a girl this good, she needs a man to take her places, show her the world. She seemed to have read my mind.

"He's really not that bad" she said with a sad smile "…sober anyway. He's a card player, and some guys don't take to kindly to losing to him, whether he wins fair or not." I nodded my head dismissively; after all it wasn't my place to judge her choice in man.

"Where you from?" I asked trying not to seem as interested as I was. Damn, I am going soft.

"Mississippi." She answered sheepishly "Though I haven't been back for years."

"Run away from something?" I asked suspecting her parents didn't approve of her…_boyfriend_, if you could call him that.

"Nah, I got thrown out." She said plainly. Surprise surprise, the southern belle has a bad streak perhaps?

"What'd you do?" I asked

"You know you sure seem to ask a lot of personal questions Logan." Oh God, I liked the way she said my name. "What about you, where're you from?"

"Canada" I grunted

"Family?" she asked

"None" I grunted again. "Are we even now?" I asked, wanting to escape the conversation probably as much as she did. She nodded quickly and threw some cash on the table before we headed out to the parking lot.

"Alright, where's home?" I asked, figuring she wanted a lift back to her place.

"Oh…"she said hesitantly. Her body language and scent changed slightly, signifying her adrenaline rush from earlier was over, and she felt a slight level of distrust towards me. "There's a motel a few miles down the road if you wouldn't mind dropping me off there, I don't really want to have to deal with Remy tonight." I didn't blame her. As we were in the parking lot of the motel, I could tell she was feeling slightly remorseful, though I couldn't tell towards what…or who.

"Relax, Sugar" I said with a smirk, slamming the bike into neutral. She climbed off the bike and handed me my helmet, smiling apologetically. She was nervous.

"I think Remy might come after me…he usually does, and I don't want to hurt him…" Her hurt him? Please, she was five foot five at the most, maybe 130lbs. wet. She couldn't hurt a guy like Remy.

"As drunk as he was, I don't think he can walk in a straight line, much less form the coherent thought of finding you and actually do it." She dropped the subject, but I could tell she was still jumpy. I walked her inside, and decided to get a room as well…just in case. I wanted to be there in case '_Remy' _came back, besides, it wasn't like I had anywhere else I had to be. I woke with a start somewhere around 3 in the morning. Marie was standing over me, shaking me away

"What you want?" I growled trying to shake her off me and pull the covers back up at the same time. She took a deep breath and but her hand on my bare chest. A few minutes later I felt a pull and was immediately wide awake "What the hell-"

"It's Remy" she said interrupting my rants of protest "I knocked him on his ass and called a cab to take him home…but not before he did a number on your bike" there were too many thoughts coming at me at once; Remy? Bike? She took him down?

"What?" I asked, trying to stop the words from echoing in my head. Everything was too loud, way too loud. And I hear everything. She lowered her voice, and told me to come outside with her. I groggily rose from the warmth of the bed and followed her outside wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and my boots. I was met with the sight of my Harley…with cracked lights and a dented body. He'd torn up the leather on the seats too.

"Oh God." I muttered running my hands over the handle bars. I'd had the thing forever, and I'd been meaning to trade it in for a new one anyway…but that didn't stop me from wanting to claw the guy. He was damn lucky he meant a lot to Marie, or else he'd be dead without me batting an eyelash. Bastard.

"Sorry about the bike" she said with a sigh, "I can pay to get it fixed." I had the feeling she probably couldn't…but I even if she could I wasn't about to let her.

"Don't worry about it" I grumbled "I've been meaning to trade it in anyway…now's as good a time as any." She smirked slightly

"I _can_ pay for it." She said. I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders to signify she wasn't to argue the topic anymore. I didn't care if she had the money or not, I wasn't about to make her pay for her Man's dumb-assery. I muttered a goodnight, went back to my room, collapsed onto the bed, and wondered how she got into my room without a key…but I suppose that'll be a question for tomorrow.

The next morning when I went down to the lobby for the mediocre complimentary breakfast Marie was already there. "Morning." I muttered dropping into the seat next to her. She seemed startled, but I don't think I startled her.

"Morning." She greeting me back rather sheepishly. Eh, her man probably doesn't have the decency to sit next to her at breakfast in the morning, much less talk to her. I'll have to see that that changes.

"Anything good?" I asked gesturing to the paper in her hands. She shook her head

"Nothing really; they've discovered a cure for mutants, there's a new road going up downtown, and Aerosmith is coming in town for a benefit concert. I nearly spat out my coffee at that. A cure for mutants? It's not like we have a disease…well I guess it depends on how you look at it. "You okay?" she said eyeing me. I nodded and dismissed the napkin she held out to me.

"So…how do you feel about the cure?" I asked, hoping she would be against it…and maybe be you know, a mutant lover for life or something else non-threatening and supportive. She shrugged casually

"Well, I'm sure the mutants who are ashamed of themselves will enjoy that." She folded up the newspaper, and I noticed the black arm-length opera gloves she had on, along with a matching black scarf tied around her neck.

"What's up with gloves, Kid?" I asked, noting the fact that the only skin she was showing was her face and a small strip where her gloves and t-shirt met. She gave a small amused laugh

"I'm not a kid." She told me pointedly. I'd noticed.

"Well?" I asked gesturing once more to her attire

"It's…uh…a fashion statement." She said unconvincingly. I didn't buy it, but I dropped it. Hell, maybe she's a mutant too. A guy can hope can't he?


End file.
